The other day when I left the house and got to my car, I found it neatly and completely encased in a complicated pattern of intricate ice crystals; a kind of giant icy blanket, a fantastic and translucent sheet covering every square inch of my defenseless, little Civic. It was a bit unnerving but picturesque.
After spending a good long time trying to warm the under powered, sputtering engine I alternately attempted to crack the ice so to speak by randomly attacking spots along the windows with one of those plastic ice cracking tools that has a small brush on the other end. It was then that I also noticed the branches of the many trees surrounding my parking spot- the ice had turned them into a fantasia of dripping, frozen, pinkish icicles. This hint of rosy color evocative of a children's animated movie, perhaps something Disney-ish, had to do no doubt with the blue-gray light of December that made noon seem like evening as we approached the shortest day of the year. It was quite pretty, totally cinematic, and daunting at the same time. A definite change in the weather.
Suddenly I began to imagine myself as one of the characters in Disney's latest, wildly popular kiddy story, the ubiquitous "Frozen," perhaps Anna as she enlists the aid of Kristoff to reach Elsa the Snow Queen and thus release the barren, frozen land from a perpetual winter. Oooooh nooooh, not winter again! If the plot sounds a tad familiar, just hearken back to the pagan tales of yore, an ailing king, the unforgiving, infertile land of the cold months that is anathema to agriculture or husbandry and the getting of food, and all the ancient rites used to revive the earth as practiced by ancient peoples; they just didn't get it yet that spring would come round again, even without the sacrifices to the gods.
This kind of magical, respun, old story that the Disney Universe now markets so shamelessly to children of all ages as it seeps through the culture can only emanate from the sun scorched, seasonless valleys of a Disneylandish landscape- an arid imagination, a place where the shade never shines; where changes in the temperature of a sunny everyday and all-is(forever)-well-with-the-world mind set are received with alarm. In addition, "Frozen" has become an obscenely lucrative industry for the Disney trademark, giving rise to the hawking- both to kids and adults- of the myriad souvenirs, amulets and charms evocative of this re-purposed ancient story- everything from jewelry, pads, pencils, calendars and coloring books with the characters' images imprinted on them to pajamas, mugs, pillow cases and chocolate pretzels, to name just a few.
"Frozen" in its insane ever-presence and almost scary commercial reach (yes, you can get all this stuff on Amazon) is a far cry from the now seeming, harmless and fanciful tale of Cinderella for example, bare-foot-in-the-kitchen stereotyping that this earlier movie exhibited notwithstanding, what with its foot-fetishing prince, kindly, chubby fairy godmother and hurtful though trendy, must-have party shoes. Nor did the gal who was named white as the driven snow- though she shacked in the woods with seven, strangely adorable, exuberantly musical male companions- exert a fraction of the cultural influence of "Frozen.". But all that happened before the internet, before Disney Universe took over even our very towns, our stories, and then went after our weather.
Like many here in our little city, I'm quietly and not so quietly horrified by the ever growing disneyfication of the once charming, alive, diverse and vibrant New York streetscape; a place where all sorts of people resided, not toured, lived, not crashed in pied-a-terres, a spot with definable, enjoyable seasons! The takeover has happened in the form of junky merchandise, diluted entertainment, a lack of choices, the disappearance of book stores, all sorts of little shops going out of business to make room for chains that sell Anna-Kristoff-Elsa paraphernalia and the like, corporate fast food signs everywhere and the general dumbing/diluting down of everything: the setting, street improvisation, stimulation of the senses and thought, the arts, alertness, realness as we once knew it. Now they're even aiming at the seasons!
Perhaps equally dispiriting, why must winter be portrayed as so terribly scary, something to be avoided and feared at all costs? What ever happened to the joys of ice skating, sledding or even thinking about ice skating and sledding, the strange satisfaction that comes from bitterly complaining while cleaning off the new snow from one's car in the freezing, fresh air, the comfort of furry snow boots and warm sweaters, a mug of richly brewed hot chocolate, a brisk, energizing walk on a chilly day in the bright, frosty winter sun, and kicking back to watch a video or read a great book, the wanting winter to be over, the anticipation of spring. . . .
It all goes together, it really does. The obsessive online ordering of defective, often disappointing products because of a reluctance to leave your cozy screen, then often having to go through the hassle of sending it all back; the reticence of visiting a store or a movie or museum and especially in cold weather- and not just places that exist in florescent malls and their "food courts," but the kind of destinations that take you down a real street with sidewalks, hot dog vendors, cafes and restaurants, traffic lights, dogs, baby strollers, life. The film making antipathy toward cold, snow, rain, ice, walking outside, the burgeoning fingerprint of Disney Universe everywhere, cautioning us about the dire consequences of not having a sufficient number of hot, sweaty, mind numbing, ultra violet, and perpetually sunny days. In truth, they even have taken over the barometer, the notion of changing seasons, our very perceptions and thoughts!
Now when it snows, or we have an occasional ice storm or "wintry mix" that requires dislodging the stuff from your car and perhaps getting your gloves wet, for one brief moment I find myself re-imagining myself as a character in a cartoon about the evils of an eternal winter. And I haven't even seen the darn movie, but somehow the whole schtick has permeated my consciousness, as it always was meant to do.
Between Disney and Amazon we surely are done for.
FROM DIANE:
ReplyDeleteFrozen is certainly everywhere and the thing that I enjoy watching, is the never-ending fascination and obsession with princesses that little girls have. Generation after generation, (seemingly) every little girl wants to be a princess. This year it’s Elsa, but I’ve seen the warrior princess — strong, clever, capable, beautiful — work as well, just as long as she’s a princess. I think long hair is a requirement for all princesses, too. Remember the 1950s tv show, “Father Knows Best”? Robert Young's pet name for his older daughter was “Princess.” Oh, how I loved that and wished to be called “Princess.” I asked my father if he would call me "Princess. He looked up at me from his newspaper, with a curious expression (he didn’t watch the program) and said “No.” I hadn’t thought he would, but no harm in asking. I might have been a princess.
FROM PAULA:
ReplyDeleteI certainly agree with your point that between the Disneyfication of midtown and the the proliferation of a kind of transient citizenry made up of the well to do rich, 20 somethings and an ungodly number of tourists, NYC has lost its grip on reality, especially at Christmastime.
Yep, I have out-of-town house guests coming, hope they don't want me to take them to Times Square!
ReplyDelete